Fixed Point
by TurtleWexler
Summary: A sequel to my other Who-Fic: Can I Park My TARDIS Here? A TARDIS, a Time Lord, and a human girl walk into a bad situation... (Well, I say "walk"...)
1. Party Crasher

**AN: You guys remember "Can I Park My TARDIS Here?" right? If you don't, you might want to read that first.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Emily, Eliza, Dina, Random Partygoers, and the onion dip. Keep your fingers _OUT_.**

* * *

Emily had a graduation party at her parents' place sometime in April. They had a huge three-story house, but it was just a few of us and a lot of food.

"So what are you going to do now?" Emily asked. "Are you going to go home, or officially move out? And are you going to look for a legit job?"

I laughed. "My mom would hunt me down if I didn't come home. I'll probably look for a job around where my family lives first. What about you?"

"I don't know. I'm trying to decide which career to get into." She shrugged.

I lowered my voice as I looked around the room. "Do you even know all of these people?"

"Well, most of them. I think we've got a party crasher, but so far he hasn't done anything besides stick his fingers in the onion dip," Em replied.

"Is he… trying to cosplay or something?" I asked.

"Yeah, what the heck is up with the Spike duster?" I grinned at her Buffy reference. "He could smuggle _so_ many puppies in that thing!"

"Better a leather overcoat than a ninja headband," I replied. "Manga geeks are even worse than Buffy geeks."

"Not to mention it'd clash with his hair." She was right. The blue would look almost grey next to his dark copper-colored curls. "Do we have to worry about him pulling out a stake or something?" Emily asked as we turned toward the stairs.

"Nah," I replied after a pause. "He's wearing a novelty shirt that says 'Schrodinger's cat is dead.'"

"But I thought it was alive and dead at the same time." She looked like she wanted to call the shirt retarded.

"Maybe the back says it's alive." I said. "Can't exactly see through leather, can I?"

She laughed at my mock-English accent as she leaned on the wall under the banister. "So are you up for a game, or are we all just going to sit around and be awkward?"

"I'm not your only guest," I said, "Why don't you ask everyone else?"

"Because," she whined, "I stink at talking to a lot of people."

I raised an eyebrow. "There's like, ten other people here! _Maybe_ twelve."

"Yeah, but I don't know all of them. Would you mind distracting the crasher or something?" She gave me the puppy eyes.

"Emily, you're just announcing a game. Go like, three steps up your stairs and say, 'Hey, everyone. Who wants to play a game?' and go from there." I nudged her with my elbow.

She gave me a pained look before she went around the banister-wall and up a few steps. "Hey, guys," she said timidly. "Guys, who wants to play a game?"

Everyone turned to look at her.

"What kind of game?" the party crasher asked. I thought for a moment he had an accent, but I couldn't be sure at such a short sentence.

"Umn…" Emily looked like she'd been thrown off just by being asked a question by someone she didn't know.

I looked up and mouthed, "Go Fish!"

"Go Fish," she said quickly.

I heard a couple of snickers behind me, and saw Emily's face turn red. "I mean… 'What If.'"

Dina, who was probably more interested in playing Go Fish, asked, "What kind of game is that?"

Em looked down at me. "I-I'm not sure," she lied. "I've never played, but Eliza can tell you."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the small crowd. "Basically, everyone sits in a circle and has a sheet of paper and a pen. You write down a random 'What If' question. Say… 'What if Doctor Who wasn't just a TV show?'" I inwardly sighed, knowing half the people wouldn't understand the rules until halfway through the game. "Then everyone folds their paper up into fourths and puts it in the middle. Everyone grabs a random paper out of the middle—not their own—and answers the question they get. Then we go around the circle. First person asks the question they got, and the next person says the answer to _their_ question. After everyone's had a laugh, that same person then reads off their question, and the next person reads their answer. It goes on until every question and answer has been read, and then we write new questions."

I saw a few shrugs and "Why not?" faces, so I went to get some paper.


	2. What If?

We went five or six rounds in. Everyone was having fun, but I couldn't help wondering who was putting the Doctor Who questions in. Every round, it was "What if… the Doctor was in your living room right now?" "What if… the Daleks won?" and they just kept coming. I looked at Emily, but she gave me the same confused look I was giving her. And no one else—that we knew of—was a Whovian, so when Emily gave me a look and started for the kitchen, I followed her.

"Was that you asking the Doctor Who questions?" I asked when we made it to the other side of the kitchen door.

"No. It wasn't you?" She started to look worried.

"Of course not! No one here would understand them anyway."

"What do you want to bet it was the crasher?" Emily glared at the kitchen door, as though she could see right through it, all the way down the hall, and into the living room.

"What if it was?" I asked. "At least we're not going crazy."

Emily sighed. "I guess you're right. Let's get back to the party, crasher or no."

She pulled the door open—and quickly slammed it shut with a shriek.

"What?" I asked.

"What if…" she whispered, "the party crasher was on the other side of this door?"

I rolled my eyes. "Calm down, Emily. He's not going to do anything to the hostess of the party. Someone would be bound to notice your absence."

"Are you sure?" she asked, hand on the doorknob.

I nodded. "Positive."

She slowly opened the door a crack. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Whatever happened to 'Come back anytime'?" he answered in a decidedly English accent.

She furrowed her eyebrows for a moment before her face turned to complete shock. When I understood, it took a while to find my voice. "D-Doctor?"

"The one and only!" he said. "Would… would you mind letting me in? It's a bit awkward… talking to a door. Not that I haven't done it before."

Emily swung the door open and threw her arms around her favorite Time Lord. "Doctor!"

"Try not to kill me," he said jokingly; "I'm on my last life."

I stood back and appraised his new… everything. "How can we be sure you're the Doctor?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the shark-tooth necklace as Emily let him go.

He sighed. "Do I really have to do another demonstration with my sonic screwdriver?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nope. But I _am_ wondering about your choice in clothes." I smirked as I thought about the possibilities. "Were you trying to look like a Buffy cosplayer, or were you just trying to put your ninth and tenth styles together when you started wearing that coat?"

"I… thought it looked cool," he said, frowning slightly.

I rolled my eyes. I'd hoped he would be over the "cool" thing by his thirteenth self.

"I think it looks cool," Emily said to no one in particular.

"Says the girl with the puppy-smuggler comments!" I replied.

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows, looking quite a bit like Martin Freeman in Sherlock—when Sherlock apologized to Molly. "She said I'm a puppy-smuggler?"

Emily made a doesn't-matter-now gesture as she said, "That was when you were just a party crasher."

I interrupted. "Basically, she's saying everything's cool on you."

"Shut up, Liz," Em replied. "Am not!"

"So… it's not cool?" The Doctor looked hopelessly confused.

"Don't worry about it," I said. "Anyway, care to tell us why you're crashing the party?"

"Just… just passing through," he answered.

"So… last life?" I asked with a grin. "Bet you tried for ginger this time because it was your last chance."

He awkwardly shoved his hands into his overcoat pockets and shuffled his feet. "No. No I didn't."

"You're an awful liar," I remarked. Emily rolled her eyes at me.

The Doctor leaned on a counter and sighed. "That's one of the drawbacks of the new me, I guess."

I nudged him with a grin. "Bet it came with the hair."

He frowned. "Shut up. You've got no room to talk; you don't get a new face and a new personality when you die."

Emily joined in. "Ooo, touchy. Bet that came with the hair too. Redheads are known for their tempers…"

After a moment of frowning at the both of us, his face broke into a grin. "You two…"

"Can we get back to the party?" I asked. "If they haven't continued playing without us, they're probably eating all the snacks."

"Right, and I was hoping to get a bit more to eat," the Doctor replied enthusiastically.

Emily glared at him. "No more for you. Just… keep your fingers out of the food."

I swear I saw the Doctor roll his eyes as he left the kitchen. I turned to look at Emily.

Her eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"You're hoping he's going to take you on an adventure," I said matter-of-factly.

"And you're _not_?" she asked incredulously.

"It's a possibility, but I'm not holding out a lot of hope."

"I just can't wait to see this in the show," Emily said excitedly. "Maybe we'll be like Craig or Wilf!" She saluted when she said Wilf's name because she considered him the best temporary companion ever. Even if he _did_ contribute to the tenth Doctor's end.

"_If_ we end up in the show," I replied.

"It's still a possibility," she said huffily before walking out the door.

"Slim to none," I muttered as I followed.

* * *

**Surprise? I figured you'd see it coming, so probably not a surprise. However... the shirt _does_ say "Schrodinger's cat is alive" on the back. Probably not a surprise either.**

**Anyway, I hope you like it and subsequently "Favorite" it and write a nice little review. :D**


	3. Potentially Dangerous

Everyone left around nine, due to the long drives home—except the Doctor and me. Emily fell backwards onto the couch with a sigh. "That was tedious," she said. "Never let me have a graduation party again."

I shrugged. "As long as you don't go back to school, you don't have to worry about it," I replied.

"Oh, good. Not doing that again either."

I grinned and sat on the armrest next to her. "Good. Neither am I."

The Doctor sat in the armchair diagonal from us and grinned. "So how would you two like to take a trip?" I was halfway to raising my eyebrow when he spoke again. "Nothing big or scary," he amended. "Just a… trip 'round the world, if that's alright."

"Would I ever!" Emily exclaimed, sitting up. She looked straight at me and gave me the sad eyes. "You'll come too, right?"

"I don't know…" I said. "I don't want to accidentally go somewhere dangerous."

"Fun," the Doctor insisted. "Just fun."

"That's what you aim for, but you ought to know by now that the TARDIS only takes you where you need to go." I folded my arms. "Not to mention all the people who were supposed to go with you and stay with you who _died_."

The Doctor's face fell. "Just a… _fun_… trip…"

I bit my lip as Emily glared at me. "If it makes you feel better, I'll go inside the TARDIS for a bit."

I swear, the Doctor's face lit up like a deadly Christmas tree. "Great! I parked her 'round back."

I had a nagging feeling I was going to regret my decision.

By the time Emily had finished getting ready, it was almost ten.

"Come on," the Doctor said after he unlocked the door. "Into the TARDIS!"

Emily dropped her bags just as she stepped inside. Her eyes were taking in everything, and I couldn't blame her. "The show doesn't do her _any_ justice," she said in awe.

All I could say was, "Whoa."

The TARDIS was even bigger than the Doctor Who set made her out to be—and that was just the control room.

I almost wanted to explore a bit—especially the giant closet I'd seen the Doctor go through when he went from a leather jacket to converse trainers—but I didn't want to get dragged along on a potentially dangerous trip.

"Hold on." Emily shot another grin at the control center. "I'd better get my coat." She took off out the TARDIS door.

"Yeah," I said. "And I'd probably better leave."

I had just reached the door when it slammed shut. I could hear the sound of the TARDIS leaving, so I turned to the Doctor. "Are you crazy?" I yelled over the grinding noise. "Emily's going to kill me if I go on an adventure with you without her! Bring me back!"

He grimaced as he pulled hard on a lever that wouldn't budge. "I'm not doing anything!" he replied. "She's piloting herself—again!"

I sighed. "Great!"

* * *

**Basically, I'd be terrified to go anywhere in a TARDIS. So neither Emily nor Eliza are me. Eliza is more indifferent, and Emily's a level thirty rabid fangirl. I wish I was brave enough to travel the universe in a little blue box that's actually a doorway to another dimension (ish), but I'm not. I'd rather stay home and read a book. That's all the time-and-space travel I can really handle anyway. Alternate universes? Try 1984 and Fahrenheit 451! No way I'm going anywhere _near_ places like them in real life. If there was a way.**


	4. April 13, 1912

It was very disorienting, finding myself in the very middle of an unfamiliar place. I watched the Doctor walk around and knock on walls for a bit as I got used to my surroundings. "What are you…?"

"Metal," he said. "Metal walls." He began to mutter to himself, and very quickly. I couldn't catch much of it at all, though it sounded like he was going through a mental list out loud. I followed him as he turned some corners and went up a set of stairs.

A few more turns, and I spotted a piece of paper leaning on a wall in the hallway.

"Doctor," I whispered, pointing at the paper.

He leaned down and picked it up, opening it. I froze at the words at the top of the page. Next to a white star on a red flag were the words: _On board R.M.S. "Titanic"_. It was dated April 13, 1912.

"We're on the Titanic," I muttered, though the Doctor was already very aware of that fact. "We're on the _Titanic_."

"I've been on the Titanic before," he said. "Except that was a space ship."

"But we're on the Titanic! Shouldn't we get off it, like, _now_? Or stop it from-"

He gave me a look.

"It's a... fixed point in time," I finished lamely.

He was studying the paper as he answered. "Yep. I really need to have a talk with those writers."

I smacked his shoulder. "Who cares about the show? We have to get off this boat!"

He scoffed, "It's _hardly_ a _boat_, Liza! And besides," he said, glancing down at the note, "It's not due to crash for another day. Might as well have some fun and good food while we're here."

"Doctor, you're on your last life. If you strand me in the middle of the ocean in 1912, I'll find you in the sixties and end you early!"

His eyebrows drew together. "You'll be-"

"Seventy-three, and don't think my age will stop me!"

"Fine, fine. Titanic sinks as planned, both of us get on the TARDIS and back in your own life safely."

"Thank you."

The Doctor took me back into the TARDIS's wardrobe to find something appropriate to wear. I couldn't get my hair up the right way, so I just left it down.

He didn't bother to change, which baffled me.

"Why aren't you changing?" I asked as we left the storeroom that the Tardis was parked in.

"Don't need to."

I stopped walking. "Why not?"

"No one's going to notice. No one ever does." He shrugged.

"That doesn't even make sense," I replied.

"And yet…" He grinned and started walking again.

I sighed and followed him to the deck. I could hear children playing and women chattering before we even got to the top of the stairs.

I kept quiet as we wandered the ship. I didn't want to say anything wrong by mistake; but I almost slapped the Doctor for his introduction.

"…my wife, yes," he said to one of the men. I felt my face flush as the conversation continued.

"I haven't seen you around," the man said.

"Oh, we've hardly left our room since we boarded." He flashed a grin.

I turned away, and when the man was gone, I glared at the Doctor.

"What?" he said, half-laughing.

"I'm going home, Doctor. You can investigate why the TARDIS brought us here, but you can leave your 'wife' out of it." I started for the stairs below deck, but he grabbed my arm.

"Aw, come on, Liza. I'm on my last life. Let me have a little fun." He gave me a puppy-dog face.

"Oh, boo-hoo," I snapped. "It's not like you're dying now." I pulled my arm from his grip. "You'll not say any more than 'wife' from now on."

He beamed. I sighed.

The sun was already setting, and everyone was heading below-decks to escape the chill. The Doctor and I stayed out to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. We even climbed up to the bridge only to be shooed away by one of the men working there.

It was getting really late, and the officers patrolling the deck were getting suspicious. We'd been two of a few passengers that stayed out, and all we did was walk around, mostly in silence. The Doctor decided it was about time to do some real investigating.

We found a little nook near one of the smokestacks where the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver. "This is the false smokestack," he said, scanning the metal panels. "If there's anything up here worth looking into, it's in here." He gently tapped the panel as he spoke.

We heard footsteps approaching and he tucked his screwdriver back into his jacket. "Quick," he whispered, "kiss me."

"What?" I hissed. "No!"

"Why not?" It seemed he'd never had this problem before.

"I'm sorry, but that's none of your business," I replied.

"Oh," he said, drawing out the syllable. "You haven't… You've not…"

"What of it?" I hissed. The footsteps were slow, but still coming.

"Just come here." He didn't wait for me, only pulled me in and pressed his face into my neck. I gasped in surprise just as one of the officers passed by us; he glanced at us then turned away and kept walking.

I pushed the Doctor off me. "A little warning next time?" I whispered as he pulled his screwdriver back out.

"Nope."

He continued scanning the false smokestack and found nothing. With a sigh, he put his screwdriver away, and the two of us walked back to where the TARDIS was.

* * *

**Please forgive me for being so bad at writing historical fanfic. My details may be all wrong, but I hope I've captured a speck of truth!**


	5. April 15, 1912

The next day, the Doctor did a lot of stuff on his own—less noticeable if one person was wandering the deck with a strange device than if two were—so I mostly wandered around below deck, waiting for him to turn up and tell me what he'd found. I didn't stay down there very long until after supper.

After a while, I'd somehow found myself in narrower hallways—third class, I was sure—and I didn't know how to get back to where the TARDIS was parked. I found that the hallways were looking more and more alike as I looked for anything that might be familiar.

"Ma'am?"

I jumped.

"Oh, sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to startle you." The man who spoke was a broad-shouldered young man, somewhere between me and the Doctor in height. "Are you lost?"

I didn't say a word, too stunned to say much anyway. I could've sworn I'd seen him before, or someone that looked like him. I was still trying to figure it out when he spoke again.

"My name's Sam," he said, holding out a freckled hand. I shook it, noting that his hand was very calloused and warm.

"Eliza," I replied tentatively.

He smiled and asked again, "Are you lost, Eliza?"

I nodded and couldn't keep from smiling. "If you could take me to the deck, I could find my way from there."

Sam smiled and escorted me to some stairs.

"Thank you, Sam," I said.

He only nodded his reply.

A few minutes later, the Doctor found me sitting on one of the deck chairs.

"There you are!" he cried a little too loudly. A few heads turned in our direction, so he leaned down and gave me a peck on the cheek.

I felt my face heat up. "I hate you," I muttered.

"No you don't," he replied, taking the seat next to mine.

"Did you find anything?" I asked.

"No. It's peculiar just because I usually find something and fix it within a few hours if the TARDIS takes me somewhere." He frowned. "I haven't found a single thing out of place. Perhaps she got it wrong for once. Come on." He stood. "I'll take you home."

The door to the storeroom was locked. The Doctor tried to open it with the screwdriver, but it did nothing. I tapped on the door.

"Wood," I said. "You still haven't fixed your screwdriver?"

"No," he said irritably. "What's most irritating is that it'd only take a few minutes."

"Well, why don't you do it now, then?" I asked.

He sighed. "I need the TARDIS."

I looked around at the other doors. They looked the same, but…

"Metal," I said, sliding a hand over the surface. "Strange."

The Doctor put his screwdriver away and paced a bit. "It's almost as if…" he started.

I waited for him to finish, but he was taking too long. "Almost as if what?"

He looked at me. "Almost as if… someone knew the TARDIS would park there. But who could have known?"

"Any of your enemies had to assume you'd come here at some point in your lifetime," I said. "Considering it's one of the biggest tragedies of the twentieth century."

"Well, yes, but how would anyone know where she'd park herself?" He rubbed his hair exasperatedly. "Augh! Who could know?"

I shrugged and leaned on the wall. "That's important and all, but how are we getting home?"

"I'll have to find a way to break the door down. Since it opens outwards, that'll be a problem unless we can find an ax somewhere." He rubbed his face and took a minute to even look at me.

I was glaring at him when he did. "Have you _never_ seen the movie?"

"Twenty-first century television!" he replied hotly.

"No excuse!" I said, starting to walk away. "There should be an emergency fireman's ax in a hallway somewhere, if the ship in the movie was like the original."

I wandered around, looking for stairs down—there had to be one closer to the engines. I found myself again in the narrow hallways of third class and assumed that somewhere nearby there were stairs going where I could find what I was looking for. The Doctor stuck close by.

I was scanning the walls to my left when a door opened to my right and someone stepped in front of me—I ran right into his back.

"Oh, sorry," he said, stepping forward and turning around. A grin spread across his tan face. "Eliza. Lost again?" His grin fell a bit when he saw the Doctor behind me.

"Actually, Sam, I'm looking for—" I glanced back at the Doctor before continuing. "I'm looking for an emergency ax. I left something important in a storeroom upstairs, and no one seems to have a key."

He led us to a set of stairs downward, and just around the corner we found an ax in a glass case. It said "Break Glass," but the Doctor managed to actually use his screwdriver for driving screws for once.

"What time is it?" I asked as we made our way back to the storeroom.

Sam whipped out an old pocket watch. "Ten after ten."

"Crap," I muttered, "we're running out of time."

"Excuse me?" Sam said.

I bit my lip. Sam more than likely wasn't going to make it. "Nothing," I said quickly.


	6. Samuel Dennis

**Wheee! Writing fanfiction is hard, but it's awesome.**

**I think it's about time for another disclaimer: I OWN ONLY ELIZA. Sam is actually a name I picked off a list of passengers. All the information about Sam is true, as far as I found on the records of Titanic passengers. You could probably Google him.**

* * *

The door to the storeroom was still locked when we got there. The Doctor took the first swing; the ax stopped hardly even halfway through the door. Sam stepped forward and took the ax. He hacked through the door in only a few minutes, but it took longer to make a hole big enough for someone to step through. The locking mechanism was the same on both sides-it needed a key.

He used his sleeve to mop his sweat after he set the ax aside. "What was so important anyway?" he asked, peeking into the store room. "What the—"

I gave a questioning look to the Doctor. He replied with a look that said, "It's your mess. _You_ clean it up."

I thought for a minute before stepping past Sam into the storeroom and motioned for the Doctor to follow. Sam almost followed too, but I asked him to stay and make sure no one came through.

"Oh, and Sam," I said before the Doctor opened the TARDIS door. "What's your full name?"

He gave me a confused look, but answered anyway. "Samuel Dennis. Why?"

"Just wondering. Thanks, by the way."

He smiled warily and turned back to the hallway.

We went into the TARDIS quickly and I asked the Doctor to do a quick check on Sam.

"Twenty-two," he started; "Farmer; originally from Cornwall—"

"Skip to the Titanic bits," I said. "Did he survive?"

The Doctor glanced past the screen at me, stone-faced. "Sank with the ship. Body never recovered, or if recovered, never identified."

I frowned at the floor in thought, feeling a nervous twinge in the pit of my stomach. "Would we be able to save him?" I asked.

"Maybe," he replied. "But there's no telling what it would do to him. He couldn't use his real name. And he probably wouldn't be able to cope with the tragedy." He paused and studied my face. "Or the future, if we tried to take him there."

"And what time does the ship strike iceberg? I know it's around two that it sinks completely." I came up behind the Doctor to see the screen.

"Eleven-forty," he replied. "We have about an hour."

"What about whoever tried to trap us here? Who do you think that was?"

The Doctor glared at the screen on the console. "Two ideas. The Master. Or the Silence in league with the Master without his knowing."

"So either way, the bearded blackguard is involved?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Either that," he replied, "or there's another Time Lord out there with a grudge against me." He paused. "What sort of word is 'blackguard'? Who says 'blackguard'?"

"I do," I said.

He scoffed.

"I wanted to use alliteration, okay? Is that a crime?"

"On my TARDIS, it should be," he grumbled.

"So what—"

"What are—Oh, God!" Sam had grown impatient with us and decided to see what was going on inside the blue box. This wasn't a good thing. At all.

"Sam, it's okay," I said, making my way quickly to him and taking him by the arm. I walked him over to a chair. "I know it's a lot to take in. Sit down and take a deep breath."

"It's… It's…" He couldn't seem to get the words out.

"Bigger on the inside, I know," I said quietly. "Take a minute."

After a long silence, he asked, "Magic or science?"

The Doctor grinned, probably never having heard that before. "Would you believe… a little of both?"

Sam gazed wide-eyed around the control room. "I'd believe anything after this."

"Well, this," the Doctor said, patting the console, "is my time-and-space machine. It got locked in this storage closet by an old enemy of mine, and we mean to find him."

"Don't you have a… a device that could find him for you?" Sam asked, starting to look near normal.

The Doctor made an "I wish" face. "Sadly, no," he replied. "But have you noticed anyone acting strangely? Likely one of the crewmembers. Probably not the captain—the Master's conspicuous, but not that conspicuous. Maybe one of the officers that patrols the ship."

"I dunno," Sam replied. "There are a few places third-class passengers aren't allowed to go."

I thought about it myself for a bit. "Someone on the bridge…" I muttered. "Doctor, there was someone on the bridge. He was _adamant_ that no one enter the bridge. Everyone else sort of looked at him funny. Do you remember?"

The Doctor bolted for the door, shouting, "THAT'S HIM!"

Sam and I followed, not sure what to do.


	7. The Master

We made it close when one of the officers demanded to know what our business was. The Doctor flashed his psychic paper and said, "Urgent business on the bridge. These two are with me."

The officer saluted and allowed us to pass.

"Time?" I asked Sam.

"Just after eleven," he replied, then he dropped his voice. "How did he get us past the officer? Who is he?"

"That's the Doctor," I replied. "He's good at getting what he wants."

Sam asked no more as we made our way to the Master.

When we made it to the bridge, we were nearly forced out again until the Doctor showed off his "ID."

"What is all this?" a man said as he approached us. He looked kind of young, but he seemed to be in charge. "I said no passengers in the bridge!"

"Master," the Doctor said in a snarky tone.

"Doctor!" the Master said with enthusiasm. "Forgive me; I didn't recognize you. New haircut?"

"New hair," the Doctor replied with a smile. The men who'd previously tried to kick us out were back at their posts. "Now tell me, Master… Why would you go through all this trouble just to see me?"

"Just to see you die, you mean," he replied. "I dunno. I thought it would be fun to see you drown or freeze to death. I assumed you'd come here at some point, so I convinced Andrews to design all the storage rooms with wooden doors." He looked the Doctor up and down; he didn't seem to notice me or Sam (who was utterly confused) the whole time. "How many regenerations is this? Ten? Eleven?"

"Thirteen," the Doctor replied with a tight jaw.

The Master laughed. "So you're telling me… if you die now, you're dead for good? What a laugh!"

Sam looked at me for explanation.

"I'll have to tell you later," I whispered, wincing at my lie.

"I can't stop what's going to happen," the Doctor replied with a grin, "but I can laugh at your mistake."

"What's that?" The Master smirked.

The Doctor leaned in close and I just barely heard the words: "They won't let you on a lifeboat."

The Master's smirk remained. "True," he muttered, "but I still have a regeneration or two up my sleeve."

Again, Sam looked at me. I insisted I'd explain later.

Neither of them moved or said another word for what felt like an eternity. I kept getting more and more anxious, knowing that soon—very soon—I'd see people rushing about to save the ship.

Then it happened. A voice rang through the bridge. "Iceberg right ahead!" Another voice—one of the officers—ordered the turning of the ship. The dagger in the heart of the Titanic. I couldn't stop it. No one could. It was too late. The ship shuddered as it scraped against the iceberg, and the Doctor just stood there having a stare-off with the guy who wanted him dead.

Finally, the Doctor said, "Let's go," and the three of us walked out of the bridge, the Master smiling at our supposed fates.

* * *

**AHH! I'm so sorry! I beg your forgiveness and the forgiveness of all your ancestors! This is probably the lamest face-off I could have come up with; but honestly-what am I going to do with a 2000-year-old Time Lord and his archenemy? He's got a sonic _screwdriver_ for Gallifrey's sake!**

_**"Master, leave this ship before I sonic your skull! Oh, wait... It doesn't work on wood!"  
**_

_**"Are you saying I'm stupid?"**_

_**"If you can't pick out the insult in what I just said, I don't need to say anything further."**_

_**And then they have a little girly slap fight.**_

**Seriously, though, how else am I supposed to write this? **

**I'm a pathetic fangirl. I really am.**


	8. Goodbye

I could see children playing with the bits of ice that had fallen onto the decks, kicking them around like balls. I was almost sad that I wouldn't be able to hear the band playing as the ship sank.

"What's happening?" Sam asked as we made our way below-decks. "You're from the future, aren't you? Is the ship going to sink?"

I said nothing. The Doctor kept quiet as well.

When we got to the TARDIS, the Doctor went in, and I turned back to Sam.

"The ship will sink," I said quietly. "And there aren't enough life boats for everyone." I never felt like the Titanic sinking was a real thing before that night. I was on the Titanic. I'd felt it hit the iceberg. I was friends with someone who was going to die on the ship. And it felt more real to me than anything. I wanted to just walk away and pretend I'd never seen any of it, but I couldn't. And suddenly I knew what Donna felt when she knew she was in Pompeii. But we couldn't save Sam. He was among those dead. He wouldn't be able to adapt to the future. And I felt awful.

Sam put on a brave face. "You and your doctor should leave while you still can."

I laughed a little. "He's not _my_ doctor. He's _the_ Doctor. His only happiness is in helping where he can." I shook my head before he could speak. "He can't help here. It's something that must happen, that will _always_ happen, no matter how anyone tampers with it."

Sam nodded, though he probably didn't understand a bit of it. "Just the same, you two ought to leave."

I nodded and paused. I didn't actually want to leave Sam behind, but there was no way he could adjust to my time period. Still, I was torn.

Sam gave me a sad look before leaning down, his face nearly touching mine as his soft brown eyes studied my blue ones. "See you on the other side, Liza," he murmured. Then he kissed me.

I heard the Doctor clear his throat behind me and Sam pulled away. He watched us go into the TARDIS.

* * *

**So. Much. Cheese.**

**I wish I could write these scenes better; I really do. I suck at cute moments, and they all come out with gag-worthy amounts of cheese. :( **

**I apologize profusely to you, your family, and your cow for my extreme cheese. :(**


	9. Smiling Too Loudly

"I can't believe you!" the Doctor said as he flipped a switch and pulled a lever. "You wasted your first kiss on someone who'd sink with a boat!"

"I thought it was 'hardly a boat,' Doctor," I smirked.

"I'm cross; don't argue with me," he growled.

"Jealous?" I asked.

"No, just sorry I couldn't do anything." He jabbed a button. "_Stupid fixed points in time_."

I went back to the wardrobe and changed back into my own clothes, feeling a bit better in a pair of jeans than I had in a dress. I thought back on my first impression of Sam. He seemed far too familiar. I had to have seen someone that looked like him. Anyone. Maybe a great-grandson, or great-great nephew or something. But as hard as I thought, I couldn't place his face and it was driving me crazy.

I returned to the control room and watched the Doctor huffily mutter things as he worked the controls.

The Doctor parked her exactly where she left from, and exactly when.

Emily soon came through the door carrying a puffy purple coat—the one she only ever used at school. "Alright," she said, "I think that's everything."

"Em," I said, "you do know that 'around the world' meant in orbit, right? You're not really going anywhere significant."

She pulled a sad face, and the Doctor sighed. "Unless you want to," he conceded.

"Yes!" She punched the air and dropped her coat by her bags. "So are you coming, Eliza, or what?"

I bit my lip. "I think I've had enough adventure myself."

She dropped her smile. "You left without me! Ugh! You knew I wanted to go! Jerk! Why would you do that? I can't believe you! I thought we were friends!"

The whole time she was saying this, the Doctor and I were trying to explain about the TARDIS, and finally, I got out a good shout. "EMILY!" She stopped talking. "The TARDIS took off as soon as you left! All by herself. You know how she does that."

Emily sighed. "Fine. What happened?"

"Run-in with the Master on the Titanic," I replied. "He thinks we're at the bottom of the ocean. Or the Doctor is anyway. He didn't realize that wooden doors were nothing to an ax and a good ax-swinger."

She raised her eyebrow at the Doctor. "There is no way he could even _lift_ an ax. Not with _those_ twigs."

"Not him," I replied. "One of the passengers."

"Oh, don't tell me! You _saved_ one, didn't you? You're _just_ like Donna, you know that?"

I saw the Doctor grin a bit from the other side of the console.

"Actually," I replied, "I left him there. He was listed as a casualty. And I don't think he'd adapt well to our time."

"Aw," she said. "That's awful. Are you alright?"

I shrugged. "I'm okay. It's not like I had a crush on him or anything."

She gasped. "You totally did! I can see it in your face! You're blushing and you can't stop smiling!"

The Doctor was now peering around the mechanism in the middle of the console. And he was grinning.

"Both of you: shut up." I sat on the railing.

"I said nothing," the Doctor replied.

"You were smiling too loudly," I snapped. "And Emily can't keep her nose in her own business."

Both of them raised their eyebrows and looked at each other before turning back to me.

"Smiling too loudly?" Em asked, smirking.

"Shut up. I can say what I want." I folded my arms.

The Doctor started the TARDIS. "Alright," he said. "Suit yourself. Next stop: Olympus! Wait…. That's Hercules."

Emily laughed, and I just rolled my eyes.

* * *

**Why did Eliza find Sam so familiar? Was the Doctor actually jealous? Will Emily get that adventure she wants without driving Liza to the brink of insanity?**

**Stay tuned to find out!**

**What I mean to say is: I'll probably write another sequel. Just not until later. Maybe April or May. Maybe later. I dunno. But I will write more. :D**


End file.
